Ticktock
by Iris Rebellion
Summary: "I don't want to assume anymore. I'll just sit back and watch the entire performance. I don't want to spoil any more of my future. I'll wait for that time to come, patiently." ; Kid Lass-centric


'been bugging my mind, so I decided to write this and hope for the disturbance to stop.

* * *

A series of sobs and whimpers echoes in a dark and secluded room. Apparently, whoever owned the place has turned it into a prison of some sort. It was stuffy inside, yet it only contained few pieces of furniture: a clock, and an old calendar with red X signs that marked every date of the specified month. A medium-sized cage lay at the corner that housed the only inhabitant of the room. His clothing consisted of tattered shirt and pants with black and red stripes that are twice his current body size. Embracing his neck is a choker attached to a heavy iron ball with a chain.

In the midst of the silence and the clock's ticking, he couldn't distinguish the difference between reality and illusion. The howling laughter and boo-ing of the audience, the threatening and demanding voice of the ringmaster, and the cracking noises of the whip… Perhaps it's just his memories playing tricks on him, but how come all those noises reverberate in his mind and ears? He recalled that a performance won't take place for the next five hours, yet every noise sounded as if they are coming beneath the lone door of the room. There wasn't even a beam of light beneath the door, just darkness.

_Why am I crying? Why am I _always _crying?_

Through his blurry vision, he caught sight of the outline of a bear lying face up on his cage. Immediately, the child crawled towards the plush, with the chains emitting a slight dangling noise. He lied down next to the bear, draped an arm between the plush's neck and abdomen, and cuddled on it. Is sadness the only emotion he has? Can he feel nothing besides the emotional breakdown of his heart? Is crying a part of his routine to live like breathing?

_Don't leave me alone, please. You're my only friend. Even though you can't speak, at least you're always there for me, especially in my times of need._

He buried his head at the bear's abdomen and silently cried, the hot tears leaking at the corners of his eyes as he endured the pain. His mind twisted in a never-ending spiral motion from crying and over thinking, and his chest tightens now and then because of the iron choker and whimpering. With the clock's constant ticking that vibrated in the small room and the hushed voices swirling in his head, he has no faith that he will fall asleep for the next set of minutes. Their taunts reminded him that he is alive and suffering. Nightmares are just dreams, but this dream is his reality. Sleeping just gives him limited joy; eventually, he will wake up and continue to go on his tormented life.

When the time came that his mother handed him to the ringmaster, then there will be the time when he will get out of this place. Despaired for years, yet he kept his hopes high. There's nothing wrong with asking for the false angel's help, especially when one is desperate. His ears painfully twitch from the clock's loud ticking. A part of him dreaded to hear every passing second, yet his other half seems to enjoy listening to it as if its precious music that numbs him in a pleasurable fear. How many seconds, minutes, hours, days, and years should he wait to get away from this nightmare without taking his own life? It remains unknown to him, but he knows that anticipated time and day will come. Everything that is happening now is just the start of his suffering anyway.

* * *

A slice of cold wind flew past his short locks. His senses tingled back in life as the breeze touched his fragile skin. The child's eyes fluttered open, his vision revealing something blurry in a dark greenish hue. A small sigh escaped his lips as he felt again the gentle cold wind stroking his face in a feather-like touch.

"Mmm…" he closed his eyes again, feeling his usual distraught nerves calming down. He never felt something like this before, but he loved it at the start. The painful tight feeling in his chest is gone. He can breathe without gasping for air in his mouth. It's as if all the stress and burden in his heart and mind disappeared in one swoop of the breeze. He never wanted to part with it. A simple experience, yet it meant everything for him; he felt freedom for the first time.

Letting another relieved sigh, he decided to lift his head and check his surroundings. He blinked his eyes several times, even rubbed them, to reassure himself that what lies in his vision is real.

"What happened…?" he asked himself aloud, still unable to accept his surroundings. It was devoid of the howling laughter of the audience that constantly echoes in his mind, free from the unpleasant and demanding voice of the ringmaster and the cracking whip of the beast tamer. Rather, there's the soothing wind dancing with the tree leaves, grass blades, and stroking his skin and face gently like a baby. Verdant trees replaced the red and white circus tents; an elegant mansion stood proudly not far away from him. The disk that shone brightly in the blue cloudless sky replaced the multi-colored lights that lit in the circus. The new atmosphere replenished his tired senses and gave him the life and warmth that he yearned to feel for years.

_Paradise…_

It's what the child called this place of harmony. Yet, despite everything, he felt a rather unknown feeling that chants in his mind that everything he sees is just a dream that will never become a reality. Something seemed off about this place that awakens his suspicions. Perhaps this paradise is just a stage inside the circus?

_…No. It can't be. I'm sure of it, I'm not in the circus anymore. Yet, why can't I let go of this ominous feeling? I don't understand…_

His nimble fingers groped around his neck. He was free from the cold choker that prevented him from experiencing freedom. Even the bar cage is nowhere in sight.

_Then… Where am I? How did I get here? Who saved me? Who brought me here?_

"Lunch time," the child blinked again and hurriedly huddled at the tree behind him, afraid to hear the deep voice. Shortly, he heard the rustling of leaves above and a series of footsteps crunching the luscious green grass. His dull blue eyes caught sight of the stranger's blue cloak, which ended above his feet. Raising his vision, the child gasped at the stranger's hair. He had short silver hair, just like him.

_Maybe… Maybe he was the one who saved me from the circus... and he brought me here…_

"Uh… Sir! Wait for me!" he raised himself from the ground and ran towards the person, who halted and looked behind. Instantly, both of their sapphire irises locked at each other. The child stopped midway in his tracks, fear blooming in his chest for unknown reasons. All thoughts he wanted to voice out earlier died in his throat.

"…You…" the person started, his eyes wide in shock. He approached the quivering child and sat in front of him cross-legged. The child did nothing but to stand like a petrified stone statue. He gets scared when someone stares at him directly in the eyes, and he doesn't like it. Meanwhile, the stranger raised a gloved hand and cupped the child's cheek gently.

"D-don't hurt me!" the child cried and ran back to the tree, away from the stranger. Instead, the person reappeared in his vision again in a flash. The fear in his heart doubled as he locked eyes with the stranger's direct gaze again. His legs gave away, forcing him to sit down on the warm grass. The shadow ahead of him loomed closer, eating his small, quivering form. He was near to tears as the person walked closer to him, his hands in his pockets with his ice blue eyes still boring into him directly.

"Calm down. I don't have any intention to hurt you," said the person who sat down once again in front of the child. To his joy, his words put an end to the child's weeping. He watched the child intently, silently taking mental notes of the child's appearance and clothes.

Eventually, the child raised his head, carefully yet hesitant to look straight into 'his reflection's' eyes. He still felt unnerved from being stared at, recalling the circus audience that used to look at him with their bored gazes. Right now, he felt like being in the center of the spotlight with only one person watching his acts intently. Deep inside, he can't shake away the wavering feeling of his chest out of humiliation. He was already taking large amounts of air into his lungs, yet they weren't enough to calm his tension, before asking the question that was in his mind the entire time.

"Who… are you?" the child said almost inaudibly, yet the question was enough to tear away the awkward silence between the two.

_He… Is he…-_

"Lass. I'm Lass Isolet. This is your older self talking to you, kid,"

The silence has returned, the older Lass' words echoing repeatedly in the child's mind, much like the ticking of the clock he used to listen everyday 'before'. His felt something grasp his heart, painfully and tightly, provoking the tears that slowly crept at the corner of his eyes.

_Time… It doesn't exist in a dream._

He cursed himself for forgetting that this limited happiness doesn't provide much warmth to melt the ice in his heart. True happiness only exists in dreams, a partial time to mend his broken self and experience freedom from the terrors of reality.

"It's… It's nice to meet you, sir," kid Lass said in his small voice, tears staining his pale lips that twisted into a wistful smile. His ears captured the gentle chuckle from his old self, motionlessly crying as he felt the person's gloved hands pulled him into a tight embrace. Absent-mindedly, he wrapped his arms around the old Lass' bare waist, buried his head on the crook of his old self's neck and closed his eyes, relishing the warmth his old self provided him. The bottled emotions buried in his chest shook violently, and his mind processed incoherent words as he wept in both agony and joy.

"Endure everything you have to go through, and you will successfully get past through them. They will become a memory that you will never forget in your life," old Lass spoke softly and closed his eyes while rubbing the weeping child's back.

For the child, everything seemed so real. He can feel and touch his old self, his _future self_. He can't understand why a dream feels like reality to him. Maybe it's because this is his destiny?

"I… will!" the child beamed with a sad smile, never wanting to leave his future self. In the midst of the silence, he became aware of faint ticking sounds echoing at the back of his mind.

_I… I don't want to leave…_

They pulled away and stared at each other's eyes again. Old Lass wiped away the tears from the child's face with the pad of his thumb. Even though the tears were gone, the child's vision remained blurry. As a swarm of black dots threatened to take his vision away, his mind and body gradually enters a state of numbness that he can't forcefully shake away, killing the rest of the emotions in his heart. Slowly, he can feel his body leaning closer and closer to the grassy field as his consciousness fades. The last thing he saw before darkness took control of his vision was the sight of his old self, smiling.

In the sea of black, he could hear the faint ticking of the clock welcoming him back in the reality.

* * *

"Wake up!" a harsh and demanding voice awakened the youngster from his slumber. Immediately, the child raised himself from his sleeping position and faced the speaker, his vision still hazy.

"Prepare yourself! The performance will start in three minutes! I'll have Oretina wheel you out of this room once the stage is set," his mind comprehended rather slowly, but later realized it was Ringmaster Zidler talking to him. With a quiet nod, the ringmaster turned his back on the child and walked out of the room, his footsteps echoing.

He was back in his usual surroundings: hot, dark, and stuffy. Even the iron choker did not leave his neck while he was asleep. There was no sight of the sun-baked grass dancing with the luscious green tree leaves and cold wind. In the middle of the darkness, he heard the loud ticking of the clock, and quickly caught sight of the faint outline of his teddy bear lying beside him. This isn't just his normal surroundings, rather he is back in the terrible reality he never wanted to live at again.

The child smiled to himself and picked up his teddy bear, recalling his old self in his dream, his future. He looked in front of him and saw the lone clock in the room. It never stopped ticking even once to take a moment's rest, before completing the cycle of time. He is fully convinced that dream is no ordinary dream; it's a good omen for him. He imagined what new performances he has to get through before facing his much-awaited freedom. He imagined what his old self is doing in the future now.

_I don't want to assume anymore. I'll just sit back and watch the entire performance. I don't want to spoil any more of my future. I'll wait for that time to come, patiently._


End file.
